


inu to tsuki

by Koufukuron



Category: Bleach
Genre: Boys Being Boys, Chocolate-coated strawberries, First impressions can change by a lot, Ichigo does not like Valentine's Day, Ichigo is weighed down by the gravity of things, Isshin is generally a nutcase, M/M, Other uses for kidou, Renji finds a new reason to fight, Renji meets the Kurosaki family for the first time over dinner, The Spirit of Youth, The dorks reunite after seventeen months, What they like about each other, Yes they take turns to top/bottom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2020-12-17 18:41:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21059138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koufukuron/pseuds/Koufukuron
Summary: A collection of RenIchi/IchiRen shorts (some not so short) - some funny, some serious, some smutty - about how dorky, loving and just all around adorable the two of them are, especially when in each other's company. Multi-chapter, initially posted on FF.net on 19/02/2017.Chapter 10, "My Funny Valentine", posted on 26/02/2020.





	1. rakujitsu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the warm glow of the sunset, Ichigo and Renji think about what they love the most in their significant other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favourite out of the first eight I wrote back when I initially started this project (refer to the bottom for more notes about this work in general) - which is why I'm opening with this one. (And because the first one I wrote in chronological order was a really silly cheesy sex piece, and this makes for such better reading, no?)  
Inspired by Tokyo Jihen's "rakujitsu" - seriously, listen to the song while reading this, specifically the live version from the "Just can't help it!" live DVD.

**TITLE: **inu to tsuki (The Dog and The Moon)

**CHAPTER TITLE: **rakujitsu (Sunset)

**WORD COUNT:** 1,185

**RATING: **This one's R because it's so obvious the dorks love each other. There's a _slight_ mention of sweet lovin', but it's one of those blink-and-you'll-miss-it things, so who cares?  
  


* * *

_"I met you by chance,_  
_loved you all too naturally,_  
and welcomed this sunset over us;

_now, let's laugh together"_

\- _Tokyo Jihen, "rakujitsu"_

* * *

  
Ichigo likes Renji’s tattoos – they leave a trail of black all over his body, around his eyes and down his back before tapering off near his hips, some blossoming across his chest and yet some others snaking around his muscled upper arms. And always, when they’re together in bed, Ichigo never fails to be amazed by the maze of ink, often tracing their path with his fingers, as if trying to find a way out, and drawing a lazy chuckle from Renji; even with his tongue too, the wet trail leading down to the tuft of red hairs lining his navel before dipping southwards, earning a breathy moan from the redhead who thrusts his hips upwards to meet Ichigo’s rhythm – but always ending up lost within them, within the warm embrace of their owner.

The orange-headed teenager’s also fond of the redhead’s shoulders. Strong and well-built, the result of having wielded a zanpakutou as heavy and bulky as Zabimaru for as long as he has, it’s always on those muscles that Ichigo likes to rest his head when the both of them are seated back-to-back atop the school roof, staring into the blue sky and watching clouds drift by lazily, or just closing his eyes and resting, relaxing in the presence of Renji’s warm reiatsu enveloping him. It’s also those shoulders that he has buried his face and cried into many times, always in the middle of the night, when his memories of that fateful day when his mother was killed before his very eyes warped into nightmares and became too distorted and morphed for him, waking him up with a violent start, cold sweat beading his brow and soaking through the sheet, tears silently wetting Renji’s chest, the redhead pulling him closer and stroking his back, muttering soothing nothings in his ear while he lets Ichigo cry it out.

He also has a thing for his partner’s scent. Musky and heady, with a hint of spice (a warm one, reminiscent of a blend of cinnamon and nutmeg, with a dash of pepper in the mix, and even a twinge of sweet, creamy vanilla), it’s a smell Ichigo can make out easily even in a room full of people, and he loves to rest his head on Renji’s chest and feel it rise and fall with every breath the older shinigami takes, while breathing in that sweet scent, his own chest moving in time, his eyelids growing heavy as he dozes off, safe and content in the warmth of Renji’s embrace, all while the latter strokes his head gently, the both of them enjoying the tenderness, a brief respite from their duties and their battles. To Ichigo, that perfume is strength, protection and love all rolled into one; it makes him feel at ease and secure, even as his trials and responsibilities weigh down on his shoulders, perhaps a little too heavily for the teenager he still is.

Renji, in turn, likes Ichigo’s arms. From being barely defined and rather average when they first met each other on that hot summer evening in Karakura, they have developed much since then through Ichigo’s handling of his zanpakutou, widening and thickening to give a pair of firmly muscled, ripped arms. Yet, for all of their musculature, Renji gapes at Ichigo whenever they’re in battle – the way the younger man swings his arms around effortlessly, smoothly, even as Zangetsu is launched in a perfect arc into a Hollow’s mask, his sleek movements not unlike those of a cat stalking its prey. And when they’re together, he likes the feel of those arms wrapped around him lovingly, protectively, even as Ichigo laughs brightly – something he rarely does, even before the whole Hollowification incident, before the weight of both the spiritual and human worlds came resting on his lean frame, perhaps too heavily – and snuggles up closer to Renji, burying his face in the other’s chest. 

The older shinigami also has a thing or two for his younger partner’s waist – a trim one, with nary an inch of excess fat as a result of all the fierce training and battling Ichigo had to undergo, the tanned skin barely concealing the ripples of muscle and vein beneath. It’s around this waist that Renji likes to place an arm around when they’re together in bed, with their friends, or, as Renji grows more and more daring, now accustomed to human ways, in public as well, when they think that there’s no one looking. And despite Ichigo’s mumbled protests and reddened cheeks, Renji knows that he enjoys it as well from the way he slides into the redhead’s arm, even positioning himself to make himself more comfortable – and this despite the former claiming it rather possessive a gesture. Rather unfortunately for Ichigo, however, it’s also a rather ticklish one, and there is little more that Renji enjoys than running his fingers up and down their length, chuckling even as Ichigo curls up into a ball and gasps for air, while laughing so hard tears roll down his cheeks, pleading for Renji to please let him off, the two of them eventually collapsing onto the bed, the bedsheets wet with their sweat, their sides aching from all the laughter.

He is also fond of Ichigo’s eyes. Renji can’t remember the number of times he’s looked into those brown irises and found courage in their steely, confident gaze, especially on the battlefield, when Ichigo emerges unscathed by the enemy’s attack, the unyielding spark in his eyes a light of encouragement for his fellow shinigami as they struggle to get back on their feet, their strength renewed in his fierce determination. It’s in those depths that Renji has seen the gaze of a warrior, strong yet humble, and it’s something he yearns to become more of.

In the end, however, what they both like the most about each other is their hearts – Ichigo Renji’s for being loyal and steadfast, never one to betray his friends, while Renji Ichigo’s for being courageous and protective, the safety of his beloveds always the first thing on his mind. It’s this that they keep in their minds all the time, be they a sweaty tangle of limbs sprawled across Ichigo’s bed on a cool night, or back to back with breathing heavy, blood dripping from the gashes across their foreheads, their chests, their limbs even as they are surrounded by an army of Hollows.

Never mind that one’s a few-thousand-years-old shinigami while the other’s all of seventeen years of age; never mind that one’s a mass of spirit particles and can only walk about the human world comfortably after entering a faux body, with the other being living flesh and blood until he removes his soul from his body in pursuit of a Hollow.

Because they know that it’s their love for each other that counts in the end. And everyday, when they find themselves in each other’s company, enjoying the last few moments of the warm sunset by the riverbank, the two think that having met each other was probably the best thing that ever happened in their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually a project I started many years ago, somewhere after the writing of “ame furashi” in 2007 (which still remains my most popular work on both platforms so far, thank you so much readers!), but I eventually shelved it due to real-life commitments getting in the way and how my interest in BLEACH was slowly waning. I restarted it once in 2013, when the manga started to get a lot more interesting again, and I thought back then that it’d be a nice way to get back into the swing of things by finishing this up and publishing it for good, to give an ending to something I started.  
……Sadly, though, that didn't last for long. After writing one or two more shorts, I put the project on hold for a second time, and only in 2017, the date I initially published it on FF.net, did I dust it off again, this time to finish it for good, even though it took me another two years from then to publish all of them online.  
Most of these were already at least half-written when I initially canned it, a few actually already completed – when I rebooted it, I edited all of them, some more than others, and also wrote two new pieces for the occasion, one of which all of you might know better as "seventeen", which I've already posted here. Over at FF.net, the abridged version was uploaded first, but this time, I thought it might be more interesting to post it the other way round.  
I've actually been thinking of adding a few more pieces and expanding the collection a little more, so who knows, there might be new shorts for this in the future after I'm done with this current ZeroX piece I'm working on.
> 
> All notes for individual shorts will be posted at the start; this is just a note regarding the entire series.


	2. Strawberry Sex part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renji's really, _really_ fond of chocolate-coated strawberries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first piece I ever wrote for this set of shorts, somewhere possibly around 2007 or 2008. (I know, what have I been doing...) Didn't have the guts to open with this piece, though, which is why I hid it behind "rakujitsu".  
Not quite sure whatever gave me the inspiration for this piece, although it might've been a recipe for chocolate-coated strawberries, plus some RenIchi fanart... can't say I regret it, though. Not at all. Title from a Hirai Ken song of the same name, I kid you not.

**CHAPTER TITLE: **Strawberry Sex part I

**WORD COUNT:** 908

**RATING: **M (so, _so_ much sex. And not the vanilla kind, but the chocolate-coated-strawberry-and-red-pineapple kind.)  


* * *

  
Ichigo had discovered, quite accidentally, that Renji was very fond of strawberries dipped in chocolate.

They had gathered at Orihime’s place one Saturday afternoon to have chocolate fondue, after Rukia couldn’t stop blabbering excitedly about **_all_**_ that chocolate_, having read about it in the shoujo manga she called her guide to the human realm and very fervently expressed her desire, complete with wide sparkling eyes, to try this dream of a human confection. 

It had taken only the few seconds between when Ichigo turned to Inoue to (rather politely, or as well as he could without letting his disgust and horror show up on his face) decline her offer of red bean paste balls dipped in chocolate and when he turned back for Renji to swipe the three strawberries that lay on his plate and inhale them, the sheepish grin on his face, a long, green stem sticking out between his lips, and the chocolate smeared messily around the edges of his mouth enough evidence for Ichigo to glare at him, a thief caught red-handed in the act.

When rather sharply asked by Ishida if he was _that_ hungry, Renji only shrunk further into his seat and stuttered, a blush rapidly growing on his cheeks, that he really liked strawberries, especially when they were ripe and sweet, earning him a roll of Rukia’s eyes and a droll comment from her that his hair would turn redder – assuming such a thing were even possible – if he ate too many of those and left none for the rest of them. (In truth, Ichigo thinks that Rukia was pissed Renji ate what would’ve conceivably been her share, the portion she’d have swiped off his plate while he was distracted, or even right under his eyes.)

So when Renji stared, puzzled, at the all too innocent-looking bottle of chocolate syrup Ichigo had given him for his birthday, the orange-haired boy had only smirked, leaning against the patch of wall next to his bed and saying, “You’re _very_ fond of strawberries with chocolate, aren’t you?”

Renji had blinked a little at that remark, staring at Ichigo dumbly until the double (and very much intended) meaning hit him.

At which he grinned, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes, and, pouncing, tackled Ichigo onto his bed and pinned him down, breathing into his ear, “And I, lucky me, get to savour the juiciest, sweetest one of the lot”, before kissing him very thoroughly, one hand slipping up and working beneath his T-shirt, fingers snaking across the teen’s taut skin and sculpted abs, the other snaking dipping down into the orange-haired’s pants and tickling, with barely-there feather-light strokes and glides, the strained erection Renji had suspected the horny bastard of having ever since he made the chocolate remark, earning a very throaty, breathy and hotly moaned gasp from said horny bastard under him, who was very clearly savouring the moment as much as his red-haired lover was, arms all over Renji’s back, holding on to him for dear life even as the older shinigami kissed Ichigo deeply, tongues intermingling.

Having finally worked Ichigo’s T-shirt off him after being distracted by his chest, Renji tossed it carelessly onto the floor, his own following shortly after, even as Ichigo untangled himself of his jeans and slid Renji’s off his hips, casting both pairs into the pile lying beside the bed. Renji, now very aroused and breathing very hotly, his face faintly flushed, grabbed the bottle of chocolate syrup off the bedside table and dangled it before Ichigo’s face. “Ready?”

Ichigo, equally turned on, could only moan, “Hell yeah”, even as Renji ripped the plastic wrap off, uncapped the bottle and started squeezing, the dark syrup slowly flowing out of the nozzle and onto Ichigo’s abs. The redhead smirked and, getting onto all fours, started drawing his tongue through the stripes of chocolate, earning a very breathy groan from his younger partner, who was evidently enjoying it very much, to the point that he didn’t initially feel the syrup being dribbled all over his cock, until he heard a faint chuckle and raised his head slightly, opening one eye to see Renji crouched, admiring his creation.

“Renji, wha--- _oohhhhhhfuckahhh_” was all Ichigo could manage as the older shinigami’s very warm and moist mouth closed over his member, his tongue now very busy at work licking as Renji’s head bobbed up and down, his hands on Ichigo’s muscular thighs to support himself, even as the younger man writhed in the sheer pleasure and ecstasy of it all.

.

.

.

.

.

.

The chocolate had been utter hell to get off the sheets afterwards, requiring three rounds in the washing machine and virtually an entire bottle of detergent before the marks finally faded into something not as recognisable – and it had been **_everywhere_**, seeing as how they had writhed, flailed, and rolled around so much, which only made it worse – and Ichigo had been rather mortified to discover that the sticky, viscous liquid didn’t and wouldn’t come out of (his) hair easily, despite Renji’s very skilled and flexible tongue and a very long shower (which Renji had been more of a distraction than a help, even though he insisted on going in with Ichigo to, in his words, _help_ _wash up_).

But hell, it had been worth it. Very, **_very_** worth it.

Yep, Renji had a major thing for strawberries dipped in chocolate.

  
Especially the orange-haired ones.


	3. Strawberry Sex part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo finds new ways of using kidou on a lazy Saturday afternoon, and Renji is suddenly all roped up in them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well if there's a part I, it just means there's a part II...... this was written not too long after the previous one, while I was probably still in _that_ zone - I figured that if Renji were to have a kink, I might as well make Ichigo have one too, though not quite sure why it ended up being bondage...... must be all those chains he sports with Tensa Zangetsu. Or a case of the-wholesome-looking-ones-are-usually-the-perverted-ones?  
This is the last one that features sex for a while - there is _just_ one more, but that will be after the next few entries to space them out a little more, plus I'm very sure no one wants to read about their bedroom adventures for three shorts in a row. (These three are the only reason why I decided to give the whole series an M rating, even though what's described is far less graphic than in "seventeen".)  
The next entry onwards will feature more dorkiness, angst and romance, so I hope there's something to look forward to!

**CHAPTER TITLE: **Strawberry Sex part II

**WORD COUNT:** 841

**RATING: **M (_Even more_ sex. And if you thought chocolate was kinky enough, I've got news for you......)  
  


* * *

  
Renji, in turn, learnt that Ichigo was quite the kinky bastard, having a thing for bondage.

That day happened to be what had started out as another uneventful Saturday afternoon with the both of them lazing around in Ichigo’s room, the house strangely silent since Rukia was nowhere to be seen, possibly at Urahara’s demanding a refund for the oddly defective merchandise she had just purchased from the shady proprietor; Isshin, on the other hand, had taken both Karin and Yuzu with him to the live filming of Don Kanonji’s new cooking show (which Ichigo found rather disturbing, accidentally wandering in once on an episode and seeing him in an apron screaming, “SPIRITS ARE ALWAYS WITH YOU!!!”, while frantically mincing onions into smithereens, papery skins and all; he would never forget how Yuzu was watching with eyes and mouth agape, a blissful expression colouring her face, oblivious to Karin’s eye-rolling).

Renji, who was flopped on Ichigo’s floor and leafing through a magazine, a bored look on his face, shut it with a sigh and was about to suggest that they head to Urahara’s for a spot or two of training in that underground cavern of his when Ichigo, seated on his bed, had turned towards him with a pensive look on his face and a faint blush that Renji didn’t recognise the meaning of initially. “Renji… you, um…… wanna… try something, er…… new?” 

The redhead rolled over and sat up, finally glad that there was something to do. “_Hell_ yes – I was about to be bored to death! Though… whaddya mean by something ne–” He trailed off abruptly, realising that for some reason, he couldn’t move his shoulders, despite not being so moments ago, his arms now pressed up against his back even as he got on his knees and fumbled around, trying to stand up. 

  
Looking up at Ichigo, his brows furrowed in puzzlement, he was greeted with a very wide smirk on the former’s face, a finger pointed in his direction. “Bakudou 1… Sai. And Rukia said I didn’t have the talent for these, though I guess her classes definitely helped a lot.” 

Ichigo ignored Renji’s cries of “Oi, whaddya doing, Ichigo!”, as he walked over to his wardrobe and began rummaging through it, evidently looking for something. When he straightened his back, cleared his throat and turned around, Renji gulped loudly and could only stare, his eyes widened as they trailed to Ichigo’s right hand, now holding a large coil of rope and a ball gag, and up to his face, where the smirk was still decorating it, that damned Cheshire cat grin not fading. “Heh. This is gonna be so much fun. And I thought you’d never agree.”

This did **_not_** look good, Renji thought as he futilely attempted to struggle against the kidou and the ropes Ichigo was now winding about his wrists, even though the growing bulge in his pants seemed to indicate the opposite, that he was secretly enjoying some part of it, a fact not lost on Ichigo as he very roughly grabbed the redhead’s member through his jeans, earning a very throaty moan and an upward thrust into his hand.

“Now, open wide!” Renji opened his mouth to ask Ichigo why he sounded so cheerful, amongst other things, but could only swallow his words as the red ball gag that was in Ichigo’s hand found its way into his mouth, grunts and a slight stream of drool the only things the older shinigami could manage as the straps were locked behind his head, Ichigo stepping back and taking in his handiwork with a nod of approval. He narrowed his eyes, his expression not unlike that of a cat who had cornered its prey, and Renji could only gulp again, his eyes growing wide. 

_Oh fuck._

.

.

.

.

.

.

A few hours later, a very naked Renji was busy rubbing his sore wrists and ankles atop the bed, the result of having been tied up for a rather long period of time, with a scowl on his face, while an equally bare Ichigo sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at the ball gag he clenched in his right hand, turning it around with the other and examining it, his brows meeting as he frowned. “……Well, damn. And I made sure I bought the largest one, only ‘cause your mouth’s so freaking big.”

“Whaddya’ve expected me to do? It never occurred to me that you’d do _that_ to me! Of course I yelped – who the hell wouldn’t have?!” The older shinigami shot back. “Still…” he paused, trailing off, a thoughtful expression now on his face.

A moment of silence.

And then, “But damn, that was fucking **_good_**. Where’d the hell did you learn that from?”

  
Renji had to admit, though, that even though it had freaked him out a little in the beginning, the sex had just gotten even hotter after that.

And as far as he was concerned, that was really the whole point of it all, wasn’t it?


	4. The first time ever I saw your face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time ever Renji and Ichigo saw each other's faces, they had no idea that they would grow to be so fond of each other, much less last till the end of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fourth instalment in this series of shorts, this is a shortened reworking of a piece I wrote for this, but which ended up far longer than I had intended for it to. Although this is an abridged version, a few of the details do differ from the original, which I'll eventually get around to posting here. This was also one of the pieces I wrote when I restarted this collection back in 2017, so it's a lot newer compared to some of the others, but I decided to post this one first as a break from the cheesy sex of the last two pieces. /cough

**CHAPTER TITLE: **The first time ever I saw your face

**WORD COUNT:** 909

**RATING: **R (just hand-holding in this one, though not in the way you might be thinking! Plus some blood from when the dorks fought each other.)  


* * *

_"And I knew our joy would fill the earth/_ _And last 'till the end of time, my love"_

_\- Fayray, "The first time ever I saw your face" _(Roberta Flack cover)

* * *

  
The first time ever they’d seen each other’s faces, it had been a warm summer night, unusually humid and hot for Karakura, the cicadas strangely silent despite blood splattering all over the pavement, Zangetsu falling out of Ichigo’s grip and landing on the pavement with a loud clang even as Rukia desperately clang to Renji’s arm, pleading the taller shinigami to spare the life of the substitute who hadn’t meant to take all of her powers when she’d attempted to transfer them to him out of sheer desperation. 

That was the first time they’d ever met, and in those few minutes the younger orange-haired man, defeated in battle, had been reduced to kneeling on the ground, his shihakusho in disarray, even as he could only look up at Renji, a grin on his face even as he swung Zabimaru above his head. It was at that very moment, as Renji raised his zanpakuto straight up high, readying himself to cut down the imposter before him, that Ichigo had stared the redhead straight in the eyes. Renji had reeled inwards at the utterly crazed look in them, only mere moments before a sneer spread across Ichigo’s face and he grabbed his zanpakuto, slashing upwards and catching the older man off-guard, wounding him severely, and he was about to deal another blow when Byakuya stepped in, severing his blade without so much as a glance.

Ichigo remembers looking up at the backs of the three shinigami standing before him as they prepared to return to Soul Society; more than the tears forming at the corners of Rukia’s eyes, though, the last thing he recalls seeing before he blacked out was the small, guilty look Renji threw over his shoulder even as Byakuya entered the door his subordinate had just opened, as well as the redhead’s lips moving, the shinigami mouthing an apology, guilt-stricken over the turn of events that had just happened.

Renji had assumed that the boy had died there and then, and so was rightly surprised (and a little relieved) to see the younger man standing before him, a mere few days later, at the base of the steps leading to Senzaikyuu, Ichigo pointing his zanpakuto at him and loudly proclaiming that he would save Rukia, even as Ganju and Hanatarou scurried to take cover, absolutely terrified at the sheer amounts of reiatsu the two shinigami were emanating.

It had been a ferocious fight, so much so that most of the surroundings had been damaged as the two shinigami exchanged blows - but in the end, victory had been Ichigo’s, as he shattered Zabimaru and wounded Renji across the chest with one single, colossal stroke. And as he fell, gasping for breath, all Renji could think of was how he never was a match for the younger man with all of his drive, courage and tenacity; how he was a mongrel through and through, bold enough to bark at the stars but never brave enough to actually reach for them.

Renji remembers how the situation then had been the reverse of what it was a few days ago – now, he was the one on his knees, bloodied and injured before the very man whom he had tried to kill less than a week ago, even as he reached up and grabbed the ends of Ichigo’s shihakusho. 

_“As shameless as it is, I’m asking this of ya – please, save Rukia for me!”_

It was the first time he had placed his faith in the younger man, the first of many occasions – indeed, as they trained together to obtain their bankais, as they both appeared at the top of the Soukyoku Hill to save Rukia, it had always been Renji who turned to Ichigo, looking him in the eyes wordlessly, and Ichigo returning the look with one of his own; no words were exchanged between them, everything they’d wanted to say to each other communicated through their eyes. 

_“You sure you’ll be able to get your bankai in three days?”_

_“I’ll manage somehow, with Yoruichi-san’s help.”_

_“I’ll be down there waiting for you – think you’ll be able to escape with Rukia?”_

_“That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?”_

They both remember how, as they laid all bandaged up in one of the wards of the Fourth Division after Aizen had escaped to Hueco Mundo with Ichimaru and Tousen, they had seen something beyond those unspoken words flicker in each other’s eyes – something unreadable, yet familiar and understandable, faint blushes having coloured their cheeks when they recognised, in each other, the same emotions they had been feeling. And they knew, the moment they smiled at each other, that they felt the same way about one another, Ichigo’s small chuckle meeting the flash of Renji’s grin as their hands intertwined.

It was some time after that, when they had healed and the bandages removed, that they saw each other’s faces for the first time properly, now beyond the initial impressions they had of each other, formed under not-so-favourable circumstances.

Where Renji had previously seen a brash, inexperienced traitor, he now saw a caring young man who always placed his friends before himself, a confident person who spoke honestly and to-the-point.

Where Ichigo had previously seen a loud, cocky ruffian, he now saw a passionate man who was not afraid to challenge the status quo, a courageous person who stood his ground and never backed down.

And they both love each other very much.


	5. gravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo is scared of what he may possibly become, and tries to get Renji to promise to do something should that day arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fifth instalment of this series, and the third I wrote, around the time the Arrancar arc was being animated. Inspired by Sakamoto Maaya's song of the same name - it's a masterpiece, go listen to it. That, and Ichigo's multiple battles with his inner Hollow throughout the entire series - specifically, the one where he battles White/Zangetsu in order to subdue him with help from the Visored. That line that White/Zangetsu taunts him with after he got defeated got me thinking, and voila. I'd say this is my second favourite after "rakujitsu", the first chapter of this work. Anyhow, enjoy!

**CHAPTER TITLE: **gravity

**WORD COUNT:** 1,206

**RATING: **R (just the two of them in each other's arms, no naughty bits.)

* * *

"_Something is pulling me/I feel the gravity of it all"_

_\- Sakamoto Maaya, "gravity"_

* * *

  
The cries were growing far too loud for Ichigo to ignore anymore, like how he had done in the past through sheer willpower and clenched fists, gritted teeth, narrowed eyes. Even after he had subdued and learnt how to control the Hollow within him with help from Shinji and the rest of the Visored (and a good thrashing or eleven from Hiyori and that accursed slipper of hers, once she was back up on her feet, for having nearly killed her without any good reason), Ichigo could still, from time to time, hear the maniacal shrieks of the Hollow within him, the one he had barely defeated. 

It cackled, howled, and sneered at him, screaming hysterically and demanding to be let loose from its restraints, its narrowed yellow eyes glinting in the darkness of his soul.

_"You useless, pathetic human fool, Ichigo! So you think you’ve gained the upper hand over me now? Hah! You’re so weak, you’ll never gain control over me the way you want to! I’ll always be here, always haunting your thoughts, so don’t you ever forget that for a single moment! Because when you do, that’ll be when I claim your body as mine for good!"_

And he was afraid, frightened of himself, scared by the possibilities that could be.

Because sometimes, the thought of completely submitting to his inner self and letting the Hollow go on his murderous, gory rampage was all too tempting to give up, if only to stop the mental anguish and torture, if only to be released from its relentless cornering, if only to be freed from the pain.  
Because sometimes the voice grew so shrill he couldn’t hear anything else but the Hollow’s cackles echoing in his mind, couldn’t defend himself against it, couldn’t do anything else but let the demon’s words pierce him, their hostility and vitriol stabbing into every corner of his being over and over again, old scars reopening and blossoming red next to fresh wounds.

And it was on one particular night, when they were lying together in bed, that Ichigo had turned around to face Renji with a distressed look on his face. “Renji, promise me this.”

“Wh–what?” Surprised by the sudden gravity of Ichigo’s tone, Renji had turned around to look Ichigo in the face, sepia irises peering into brown ones; Ichigo, unable to bear the pressure, the questioning look in them, couldn’t help but avert his gaze and look away, whispering coarsely, “That you’ll be the one to kill me if I turn into a Hollow for good”, his throat growing dry as he finished his sentence.

A very concerned Renji gently but firmly placed his hands on Ichigo’s shoulders, forcing him to turn and look at the shinigami’s face, into his eyes. “And what makes ya say that?”

“Because I don’t think I’m strong enough to keep saying no”, came the hushed reply, the crack in Ichigo’s voice and his hunched shoulders making him seem a lot more vulnerable and weaker than the confident, protective warrior Renji was used to seeing. “Because every time he tempts me, I’m this much closer to actually giving him what he wants, just so that he’ll stop his tormenting.”

Renji snorted and pulled the shorter guy closer to his chest, nuzzling him and resting his chin amidst the crown of orange. “Utter bull. What makes ya think you ain’t strong enough to overcome that guy, eh? You fought him and won – and no, don’t ya dare tell me otherwise.” The faint protest that was about to make itself known on Ichigo’s lips withered in his throat, and he nodded weakly, face downcast, eyes averting Renji’s gaze.

“Ya’ve been able to resist his calls every time he’s tried to break free – that time against taichou on the Soukyoku Hill, and then against Yammy and Grimmjow.” And Ichigo shuddered a little at the mention of the former Espadas’ names, remembering how that his refusal to yield to his Hollow had almost cost Sado and Inoue their lives had it not been for Urahara’s and Yoruichi’s very timely intervention with Yammy, and how he could only helplessly stare on as Grimmjow put a hole through Rukia’s chest, and again later as the blue-haired Espada followed Tousen and casually strolled back into the Garganta leading back to Hueco Mundo, but not before turning back and snarling at a badly beat-up Ichigo, a deranged smirk on his face, that the next time they met would mean the demise of the shinigami.  
Ichigo’s eyes started to grow wide and his breathing shallow, the panic and fear he had felt in those moments starting to come alive again, but Renji’s steady hand between the blades of his shoulders, stroking and patting, put that to ease as quickly as it had assaulted him, the warmth of his touch driving back those sensations.

The redhead placed a thumb beneath Ichigo’s chin, nudging it upwards gently until he was looking into Ichigo’s eyes again, holding his gaze levelly as he continued. “And then ya defeated him, this time for good, with the help of Shinji and the rest. What makes ya think you can’t do it? Just because he promised he’d kick your ass if he ever got the chance to?” Renji snorted again, albeit more softly, clearly having not bought the Hollow’s empty threats. “Have a little more faith in yourself like we all do, Ichigo”, he finished, wrapping his arms around Ichigo and pulling him into an embrace fiercely.

Ichigo sighed and relaxed into the warmth of Renji’s body, one of his arms snaking about the redhead’s waist, the other reaching up and faintly touching the nape of his neck, earning from the older shinigami a contented hum, even as Renji returned the touch, reaching one arm up and stroking Ichigo’s cheek tenderly. And as his eyelids grew heavy and he drifted off to sleep, his last thought was about how Rukia was right – he tended to think too much about it, had this habit of worrying incessantly and not trusting enough.

He had his friends and family, who helped him. He had Zangetsu, who spurred him on. He had Renji, who loved him, and whom he loved. And they all had faith in him, faith that he would pull through, like he had always done.

And it was enough to make him believe that he could and would.

But Renji stayed up well into the night, staring out of the open window and at the pale moon in the raven sky, arms around Ichigo, looking down at the younger’s now much more peaceful face, resting on his chest, as he slept easily and breathed deeply. He meant every word – and far more – that he had said with all of his heart, but deep down inside, he fervently prayed to any God willing to listen for that day to never come.   
That he wouldn’t have to be the one to do it – wouldn’t have to kill Ichigo, wouldn’t have to taint his hands with his blood, wouldn’t have to remove a doting brother, caring friend and dear lover from those around him.

And Renji closed his eyes and hoped fervently, even as his arms tightened protectively around Ichigo.


	6. A Happy Dining Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renji goes over to the Kurosaki home for the first time and meets Ichigo's family over dinner, while the younger man is left very exasperated by his father's antics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the two new pieces I wrote back in 2013 in an effort to bring this collection up to double digits and perhaps end it, although I'm sure I took at least a year to slowly finish it. I remember trying to think of something to write about when I recalled Isshin's over-the-top behaviour, and I began wondering how I could work that into a piece of fanfic. Isshin may be such a crazy hoot, but I'd like to think that he's actually very perceptive and understanding under his Mad Doctor act, and he'd definitely be more than welcoming to any new member to the Kurosaki family; plus, he's such great comic relief, so I decided to try and use him as a means of working some humour into my writing. Whether that worked or not, I leave it up to all of you readers to decide......

**CHAPTER TITLE: **Portrait of a Family

**WORD COUNT:** 1,305

**RATING: **R (It's just a boy bringing his partner home to meet his family for the first time! Minus the part where they're cuddling in bed, though, but there's nothing spilling out of the bedsheets. Nope, nothing at all.)  
  


* * *

_"The portrait of an/ordinary, everyday family"_

_\- Sasagawa Miwa, "kazoku no fuukei"_ (HANAREGUMI cover)

* * *

  
When Ichigo brought Renji home for the first time, he didn’t quite know what to expect – and, more importantly, what to warn Renji about.

After all, it was Kurosaki **_fucking_** Isshin they were talking about, that crazy father of his. Just when he thought he knew all the moves his old man used in all his valiant efforts to wake him up in the mornings, he _had_ to come up with new ones just so he could keep _challenging his son_, the kooky bastard.

Like the one time he had hidden in Ichigo’s wardrobe and sprang out when his son had opened it to grab a T-shirt to change into from his sleeping wear, managing to land a fist in Ichigo’s face, along with an all-too-cheery “Good morning, Ichigo!!” even as his son stumbled and fell backwards onto his bed, nursing his nose gingerly with one hand and glaring at Isshin, the other hand already curled into a fist and raised in retaliation.

Or the one time that he had hidden in the toilet and chose to reveal himself only after Ichigo had locked the door and slid his pants down, bursting out from beneath the plastic cover atop the bathtub and yelling at the top of his voice, “Good morning, Ichigo!!” before scooting over to his very stunned son seated atop the toilet bowl, winking slyly and trying to grab a handful of him. “And I see we’re all grown up already, big boy!”

That had resulted in a lot of screaming from the orange-head and Isshin struggling futilely with the plunger stuck very firmly on his face when the door eventually opened, a very flushed Ichigo running out and yelling that he was far too old for Isshin to have a look down there, even as Karin sighed in the corridor, her shoulders drooping in resignation at how her father was _never_ going to stop being an idiot, and Yuzu frowned at how noisy they were being before breakfast, a pot of soup in her hands.

So the orange-haired teen found it highly suspicious when he saw no sign of the barmy old hoot on the roof, hiding in the bushes or balancing on the lamp post right outside their house, even as Renji looked on, completely confused at what Ichigo was doing as the latter decided to adopt various karate poses randomly for a good few minutes – almost as if he were sparring with the air – before he finally decided to walk up to the door and open it.

Upon which Isshin, decked in his trademark white lab coat and red shirt, shot out, a punch aimed at Ichigo’s face, which he dodged, only to have a knee jab upwards and into his abdomen. And as Renji stood, gawking at a currently very crumpled Ichigo with both arms across his abdomen, his face twisted into an expression between a grimace and a scowl, the mad doctor triumphantly announced, “Hah! Late again aren’t you, my son! I thought I told you before; dinner at our home is at 7pm on the dot! And falling to the most basic of my tactics, tch! Your skills have dulled, Ichigo!”, before dashing out and grabbing Renji’s chin, pulling the red-head close to his face and looking into his eyes.

Renji, surprised, could only blink twice.

“And fancy keeping my new son hungry and waiting, shivering in the cold! Look at him, he’s all skin and bones!” Isshin exclaimed in horror as he dragged Renji into the house, with Yuzu and Karin staring rather innocently (or at least pretending to, for Karin) from beyond the doorway, Ichigo muttering, “But man, just how well–fed are you at Urahara’s, you damned freeloader?”, while he got up and started for the table, slamming the door shut behind him.

Dinner at the Kurosakis’ was, as usual, uneventful. By that, it meant that Ichigo and Isshin were continuously fighting at the table, Isshin bemoaning the unwillingness of his children to spend time with him and continuously going, “Oh my poor Masaki! Look at our children! They’re rebelling against us!” to the huge, framed picture of his deceased wife serenely watching over the dining table, and Ichigo protesting vehemently that it wasn’t normal for teenagers to be back home, let alone have dinner, before 7 pm. Karin sipped her soup, quietly enjoying the scene with a small smirk on her face, while Yuzu was beaming with smiles as she dished out more of her cooking, all too happy that there was another at the table enjoying her food, even as she chided both her father and big brother for their bad table manners, especially in front of a guest.

Throughout the meal, Renji just sat at his place quietly, absent-mindedly poking at the morsels on his plate, eyes shifting back and forth between the members of the Kurosaki family at the table, before his gaze trailed back down to his bowl and further down to his lap.

Later, as Ichigo was walking with Renji back to Urahara’s shop, he had asked Renji, rather grumpily, if he had enjoyed himself that evening. Renji had, however, surprised him by only nodding and giving a small smile, whispering, “They made me remember what family was like, a long time ago,” eyes glistening from the faint memories he still had of his time as a human, of family and dinner tables and warm laughter.

Ichigo had harrumphed rather loudly at that statement and, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, muttered, “Welcome to the family, then. Guess that pervert’ll be wanting to see more of your face around, dumbass.”

He hadn't counted on Renji inviting himself over for dinner occasionally initially, then every day after that first day, which eventually extended to him spending the night, first once in a while, and then with increasing frequency, to the point where it seemed more like he was staying over at Ichigo’s, instead of Urahara’s. But Ichigo supposed he really didn’t mind.

After all, it was always nice to have one more person at the table, even if Isshin kept making lewd remarks and batting his eyes at them and trying to offer them condoms in painfully obvious ways he actually thought were rather discreet – slipping them onto the bananas and sausages, for example, which had made it rather hard for them to explain to Yuzu, who had asked, with _such_ an innocent face, why Ichi-nii’s and Renji-nii’s food had such weird things on them, while Karin just snickered as silently as she could muster, even as Ichigo sputtered and the rest of Renji’s face turned as crimson as his hair.

At least he didn’t have to explain to his father his relationship with Renji – it was almost as if the older Kurosaki had known from the very moment he had set his eyes on the red-head. And if Ichigo had any lingering doubts about that (as if the condoms weren’t already enough of a statement), they were completely blown away one morning when Isshin sprang up and into his son’s room through the window as he always did, landing on the floor gracefully and striking a victorious pose, surprising the hell out of Ichigo and Renji, who had been cuddling right up till the point a deranged doctor flew into the bedroom.

“Good morning, Ichigo and Renji!! Do you two need more of these? Am I disturbing your morning rituals?” Isshin winked, even as he flapped his arms and waved a box of condoms in front of their faces madly. Renji blinked in surprise, even as his face grew red, while Ichigo sighed in frustration, burying his face in one palm and grabbing the nearest object he could find (his bedside light) with his other arm, readying to throw it at his father.

“Get….. OUT!!!”


	7. Win, or Die Trying to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renji realises for the first time that there's more to fighting than for its own sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/3 of this was originally written way back in whenever (I can't even remember when I started this, _god so disappointing_, with the remaining 1/3 (the ending, mostly) written when I came out of hiatus in 2017. Unlike some of the other pieces, like "rakujitsu", this one was one I couldn't really see an ending to, and would've probably meandered on for a lot longer if I hadn't cut it short (rather abruptly?). Not quite sure what I was trying to do with this one - I believe I probably originally had a vision after the Renji/Yylfordt fight, but that got lost somewhere in the mess that was me trying to put that together with the Ichigo/Grimmjow fight.

**CHAPTER TITLE:** Win, or Die Trying to

**WORD COUNT:** 798

**RATING:** PG (save for a few semi?-graphic descriptions of injuries - but hey, it's BLEACH we're talking about, where an episode can't go without someone getting injured in some way or another, be it through zanpakutos, kidou, or Hiyori's Super Walker.)  
  


* * *

  
Perhaps it was because of his stint with the Eleventh Division, but Renji had thought that there was nothing much to fighting. If anything, it was like what the division – or maybe more precisely, Kenpachi – had taught him.

That when you fight, you fight for yourself and only yourself, not for nothing else, no one else. If you’re alive and standing at the end of a battle when the dust clears and settles, then you’ve won. You don’t need a damned reason to fight – forget your ideals, your convictions, your friends, your whatever; just the determination that you’ll live to see through another day, another opponent to kill, just the instinct that makes you seek out battle after battle, victory after victory.

Renji had believed in the mantra, had built his life upon it, even after he had transferred to the Sixth Division and worked under Byakuya, his interpretation of fighting and violence at odds with what Renji had lived by.

So when he saw the black-clad figure of Ichigo on the ground, staring helplessly up at the night sky after Grimmjow had left with Tousen – but not before thrashing the younger shinigami soundly without even drawing his sword – Renji was at a complete loss for words.

It was the first time he had seen the usually loud-mouthed, brash boy so silent, looking so forlorn, defenseless and lost, as he struggled to come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t have won against Grimmjow, that he had lost to the Espada, that he wasn’t strong enough to protect Inoue, Sado, Rukia, those around him whom he held dearly.

Even as the sound of the soles of Renji’s sandals against the pavement became increasingly louder as he approached Ichigo, the latter just remained crumpled in a heap on the road, completely crushed by his defeat and the blue-haired being’s revelations; and when he finally spoke up, it was in a voice nothing more than a trembling whisper.

“I lost.”

“Dumbass.” Renji snorted uncertainly, not quite sure of what to say. “Ya won, didn’t ya? I mean, ya ain’t dead, alive and all.”

Ichigo just stared ahead, his right hand continuously unwrapping and clenching itself around the handle of Tensa Zangetsu the only betrayal of his anger and frustration as he gripped it so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Don’t lie to me, Renji. If you were me, you wouldn’t be able to say that.” This time, it was Renji’s turn to be silent, face downcast as Ichigo continued through clenched teeth. “I couldn’t protect anyone. And I couldn’t even defeat those bastards who injured us.”

“I lost.” And with those two words, Renji’s beliefs, already cracked by his narrow victory over Yylfordt Granz, were shattered soundly.

Sure, he had won – but without the determination that the Eleventh Squad had preached; he had thought for a moment, when the Arrancar effortlessly ripped through Hihiou Zabimaru and slashed him, that _he was_ _going to die, there and then_, even as Jinta, cradling a barely conscious Ururu, watched helplessly from the roof of Urahara’s shop.

At that moment, what drifted through his mind as blood dripped from the gashing wound across his chest were not thoughts of winning; they were of his comrades, who were still out there fighting for their lives, desperately trying to protect Karakura and its inhabitants, almost all of them unaware of what was happening even as they slept; of the people he cared about and whose lives were being threatened by Aizen and his band of Arrancars who had suddenly decided to invade the human realm.

It was then, he realised, that his views on fighting had changed.

Looking down at the crestfallen Ichigo, still kneeling on the road, he realised he was starting to understand what the younger substitute shinigami was saying. There was no doubt he was fighting to stay alive – but he was no longer just fighting for himself, for the sheer jolt of adrenaline it sent running through him as he charged recklessly towards the enemy while swinging Zabimaru. More importantly, he was fighting to protect those people around him he felt close to, the people he loved, the people he would cast aside his life for in the blink of an eye.

Like Rukia, Byakuya, the Eleventh Division family, Hisagi, Kira, Hinamori, Ichigo.

It was that day that Renji swore, in his heart, that he would no longer fight for the utter joy of it.

To him, fighting was no longer the be-all and end-all; it ceased to be the reason for his existence. Rather, he now fought because he had a reason to, because he knew that he had something to stand up for and defend with all of his might.

That day, Renji found a new reason to fight.


	8. The Spirit of Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renji can't help but think about The Spirit of Youth, and how he sees it in Ichigo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter from the archives! Got inspired by Don Kanonji and his "SPIRITS ARE ALWAYS WITH YOU" nonsense, I believe (I mean, he appears in one of the earlier chapters of this series despite being such a minor character) - can't remember where the exact phrase, "The Spirit of Youth", came from, though. Might've been Naruto or something else, but given how many silly shenanigans Ichigo and crew have been up to throughout the whole series I thought it was a rather apt phrase to describe everyone's favourite strawberry. I think I was aiming for humour in this when I originally wrote it, especially given the serious nature of some of the others like "gravity" and "Win, or Die Trying to", but I think it failed......

**CHAPTER TITLE:** The Spirit of Youth

**WORD COUNT:** 642

**RATING:** R, because of the very juicy blowjob Ichigo gives Renji in this one. (Yep, the last piece in this series to showcase sexytime.)  
  


* * *

  
Maybe it’s due to the fact that he’s at least a few thousand years older than Ichigo, but Renji can’t help but think that sometimes, the younger man just happens to do _something_ that catches him completely off-guard.

And most of the time, it happens to be the really, _really_ stupid things.

Take, for instance, Ichigo’s throwing Rukia down from the Soukyoku cross.

Even now, her screams still echoed in Renji’s ears, even as he recalled how the sheer force that Ichigo had used in flinging Rukia had resulted in him rolling a good distance away from the cross after he had caught her.

Admittedly, that had been the easiest way for him to take Rukia and escape, given the circumstances, though he still thinks that her screams of “Bastard! Are you crazy?! Ichigo!!” and his shouts of “Dumbass! What if I didn’t catch her in time?!” were perfectly validated and justified. And every time he thinks of the event, he can’t help but chuckle a little.

There was, as well, Ichigo’s very embarrassing headband speech from when he was fighting Ururu trying to regain his powers for the very first time, which Urahara had all but tricked him into saying, consisting of words like “O great headband of truth!” and “Unleash the powers of justice within me!”

When Renji heard about the episode from Jinta, who had retold it with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he laughed so hard that he wound up with cramps – not as if that stopped him from continuing to laugh, anyway – while Ichigo, seated nearby, merely just sighed and rolled his eyes, resting his cheek on one clenched fist, elbow propped up on Urahara’s low table, the expression on his face a cross between annoyance and boredom. He didn’t think it was all _that_ funny, given the circumstances back then and how he was certain Ururu would’ve punched the life out of him, the very same girl who was now nervously standing before him, asking softly if he would like a cup of tea, all while Urahara sat in the corner, a huge grin on his face as he fanned himself.

Then there were the things they did during sex.

Renji couldn’t help but blush a little whenever he thought of what Ichigo had attempted on more than one occasion when they lay in bed together, always resulting in Renji panting heavily and whining for more, eyes squeezed shut and a blush rapidly spreading across his cheeks as he lay sprawled out on the bed, Ichigo straddling his thighs and grinning wickedly as he leaned in for the next round.

Especially that first time Ichigo gave him a blowjob. There had been many more equally amazing ones after that, but none ever came close to that one in terms of intensity. Renji could vividly recall how the orange-haired shinigami’s very skilled tongue and fingers had glided and fluttered over his erect member, teasing it with butterfly touches and making the larger shinigami gasp and pant, his ragged breath coming in catches, before a smirking Ichigo had taken his by-now throbbing, very red and very wet cock and swallowed its entire length in one mouthful, cheeks hollowing as he worked his way up and down, as the redhead had gasped and moaned and grabbed fistfuls of the orange-head’s hair, hanging on for dear life.

Renji was certain that the very hoarse and very loud cry of Ichigo’s name that had accompanied his very forceful release had been loud enough to wake up the neighbours a few houses down the street – and yet, it had been somewhat of a miracle that Karin, Yuzu and Isshin had remained fast asleep, the doctor’s loud snores reverberating throughout the house long after Renji’s breathing had calmed down.

Renji thinks that that must be what they call “the spirit of youth”.


	9. seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Ichigo and Renji, the seventeen months they spent apart from each other felt like an eternity for the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually one of the newer pieces I wrote for this compilation back when I initially completed it in 2013 - the original "seventeen" I posted over here quite some time ago, but I felt like I wanted to rewrite some of the details present in the original, which is why I decided to include an abbreviated reworking of it in this collection, although it by far and large follows the original pretty faithfully. The full-length version is funnier (largely because the Gotei 13 are such Peeping Toms), and gets Hot and Steamy, so if you're looking for that then head yonder!

**CHAPTER TITLE:** seventeen

**WORD COUNT:** 1,007

**RATING:** PG! No naughty bits or juicy scenes unlike in the original, just two lovers getting back together after a long time spent apart from each other.  
  


* * *

_“I'm in the dark and trying to find my way_

_And dreaming I might share your sweetest day"_

_– Leo Imai, “THE SWEETEST DAY”_

* * *

  
The seventeen months in which Ichigo had no powers whatsoever had been utter hell to bear for the both of them.

The very day the last few remaining shreds had disappeared, it had taken all of his being to suppress his emotions even as Rukia said her farewells, her image growing fainter with each moment before his eyes, as Inoue, Ishida and Sado looked on a short distance away. She had looked up with him, eyes glittering, and whispered, “Thank you,” even as the petite shinigami’s figure, now barely a pale imitation of a ghost, finally vanished into thin air, no longer visible to Ichigo, her presence something he was unable to feel anymore.

Not just hers, but that of a red-haired shinigami as well, who had been watching the entire scene from behind a lamppost. Renji had wanted to be the one saying goodbye to Ichigo, had even contemplated doing it a day before the end of it all, while his image could remain whole in Ichigo’s eyes and mind, but eventually relented and asked Rukia to do it on his behalf – she knew him better, he reasoned, being the one who had awakened his powers.

And he didn’t want to make it any harder for his partner than it already was, even as he turned and began walking away, a single tear rolling down his cheek and splashing onto a clenched fist. Inoue was the one who noticed the redhead walking away, with Ishida’s and Sado’s eyes on Ichigo, who was now staring up at the sky; she was certain the pain she felt in her chest was Renji’s, her right palm closing over where her heart was.

Ichigo had no idea how the next seventeen months went by him – sure, graduating junior high and moving up into high school was big enough, and that kept him busy for a while, but he was reminded of his current reality every now and then, when Ishida would suddenly run out of the classroom without any notice, with Inoue or Sado – or sometimes even the both of them – occasionally following behind, or when he’d sometimes take a stroll around the neighbourhood after classes and happen to chance upon the sight of Karin leaving Urahara’s shop, the eccentric man always giving him a quick glance with an expression the orange-head couldn’t quite read before waving a cheery goodbye to the young girl.

And despite having told Mizuiro and Asano that he was perfectly all right with his new life now when the latter brought up Rukia during lunch one day and wondered aloud how she was doing, the rather terse tone of Ichigo’s voice and how he had looked away from his friends as he muttered “I’m all right” betrayed his true sentiments, even as he knew, as he was saying those words, that he didn’t feel it.

And then he ran into Kugo Ginjo, who promised to help restore his powers in exchange for removing those of his and his companions and allowing them to live as normal humans.

Ichigo was ecstatic at those words – sure, he’d found the taller, broader man’s offer suspicious at first, but Sado’s admittance that he felt Ichigo’s pain of not having the strength to protect those dear to him, coupled with Ginjo’s urging, won him over, and soon he was training eagerly with the rest of Xcution. With every swordfight, every punch and kick, he could feel his powers returning, increasing, developing, growing ---

only for it all to be taken away by the very man who had swore to give him back the abilities he once had, the same man who now had him sprawled face down on the ground, a foot on the younger man’s back, a smirk across his face even as he kicked Ichigo’s hand away. “Fool – come after me one more time, and I won’t show any mercy.”

Ichigo couldn’t believe what was happening, couldn’t believe what he was hearing – even as he shakily stood up, balancing himself unevenly on his sword, one uncertain step after another as he tried to reach towards Ginjo to reclaim his hard-earned powers. And just as he was about to touch the silver-haired man, now standing with his arms folded across his chest, a bemused look on his face, he gasped as he felt the sharp edge of a sword run through him.

There was no pain, though – only a soothing warmth flowing into him, even as he turned around to see a familiar figure in black forming before his eyes, a smile on her face even as Rukia said, “It’s been far too long, Ichigo.” Even as the warmth grew progressively hotter, Ichigo made out the silhouettes of a few other figures standing a distance away from Rukia, and his heart skipped a beat when he recognised the crimson hair, distinctive tattoos and that all-too-familiar face, now looking at him with a wide grin on his face.

“Ichigo!”

He barely had time to call out his partner’s name, though, before Ginjo leapt towards him, broadsword aimed at his throat; battle instincts returned to him, though, once he grabbed the hilt of his sword and blocked Ginjo’s attack with one swift move. Before long, all of the Fullbringers were defeated, the ringleader with a surprised, pained expression on his face even as he lay dead, Ichigo closing his eyes and bowing his head a little before turning away from the body of the person he just defeated.

“Ichigo.”

He opened his eyes again to see Renji walking towards him. His eyes starting to brim with tears, Ichigo began walking, striding, _running_ towards him, burying his face in the redhead’s chest, his arms around the older man’s waist even as the latter ruffled his orange hair, another hand stroking his back..

“Renji…..” Ichigo’s voice was choked and trembling as he looked up at the other shinigami’s face, a tear running down his cheek. Renji smiled slightly, even as he wiped the trail with his thumb.

“It’s good to be back, Ichigo.”


	10. My Funny Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo's never been really fond of Valentine's Day. That is, until Renji decides to follow human traditions one February 14th.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A belated Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! The final piece of the first ten to be written, I had the first line sitting around in the master document for forever while I tried to think of other possible topics and directions to take this one in; re-reading "Strawberry Sex part I", though, gave me an idea involving chocolate, plus the mental image of Renji turning beet-red while holding out a box of chocolates was just too good to pass up on.

**CHAPTER TITLE:** My Funny Valentine

**WORD COUNT:** 1,274

**RATING:** PG - all safe and sweet, befitting a day like this!  
  


* * *

_“You're my funny valentine, sweet comic valentine_

_You make me smile with my heart"_

_– Fayray, “My Funny Valentine” _(jazz standard)

* * *

  
As far as Ichigo could remember, he had always hated Valentine’s Day.

He thought that perhaps it was because it had all seemed so excessive to him, the outbursts of affection people displayed towards each other, as he watched Chizuru try to hug Orihime as tightly as she could while exclaiming, “Hime! Let me give you my love!”, the orange girl laughing rather good-naturedly (albeit with a slightly confused look on her face as to why the other was trying to touch her breasts _all the time_), and Tatsuki whacking the bespectacled girl on the head hard for the umpteenth time, swearing under her breath that Chizuru was going to get it _real good_ from her for sexually harassing Orihime.

And it was also because his admirers kept trying to give him gifts, which annoyed him to no end – the chocolate and candy he could deal with, passing the greater deal of it to Karin and Yuzu (and much later on, Rukia), who were always pleased with getting free sweets, but the other non-edible gifts he had no idea what to do with. Granted, it wasn’t as if he received many of them each year – he did have a reputation for being a weird kid at school, after all, and people always whispered that those who considered him attractive were probably the same, if not even weirder – but still.

It wasn’t as if he could just throw them away like that – no matter how much he’s disinterested, Ichigo knew that the sender had put in some thought to the gift, picking out what they thought the Kurosaki-kun they knew would like best, and it’d be utterly cruel of him to discard it just like that. Luckily (or not) for him, Isshin’s more than pleased to wear whatever T-shirts he got, more often than not dramatically smooching Masaki’s poster and exclaim while dancing about, “Look at what Ichigo’s girlfriend got him, Masaki! I think we might have to arrange a wedding for him soon! Our big boy, all grown up now!”

(It’s usually at that point that Ichigo punches him squarely in the face, scowling even as the dark-haired doctor continues blabbering, oblivious to Ichigo’s displeasure; “Bring her home one day for Papa to see! Or maybe I should go over and meet her parents first!”)

Not too long after the whole Soul Society debacle, though, Ichigo had started seeing Renji, after Aizen, Gin and Tousen had simply left without so much as a backwards glance, after existing ties between shinigami had been strained, broken, repaired, and new ones formed, the shinigami substitute and Sixth Division lieutenant falling into the latter, a deep friendship growing into a romantic relationship. Ichigo had wondered for a while how to tell his family, but realised he didn’t have to when he came back one day to see his father all over his mother’ poster, going, “Oh my dear Masaki! We’ll have a new son-in-law soon! Ichigo’s such a charming young man, getting his way with both the girls **_and_** the guys! Papa’s jealous! Teach me your ways, Ichigo!”

(Ichigo had punched him hard in the face. **Twice**.)

Before he knew it, six months had passed, and it was already mid-February. February 14th, to be precise. _Not this day again_, Ichigo grumbled internally as he made his way to the classroom, the sight of girls from other classes trying to pass gifts of chocolate and what else to other guys making him roll his eyes at the all-too-drawn-out displays of affection. Sighing as he opened the door to his classroom, though, he raised an eyebrow when he saw Renji backed into a corner by Matsumoto, who appeared to be very amused, a leer on her face as she leaned in inquisitively towards the small box he held in front of his chest, almost as if trying to protect himself with it. “Hey Rangiku-san, Renji.”

“I….Ichigo!” His expression a mix of both embarrassment and horror, Renji stuttered as he quickly hid the blue box behind his back, and Matsumoto turned around, a wide grin on her face. “Oh morning Ichigo, you’re pretty early today!”

“What’s all that about?” Ichigo inquired while walking towards his seat, Renji’s face turning red as he tried to make himself less noticeable. “And what’s up with you, Renji?” He frowned.

“I…… I……” Rukia quickly butted in for her red-haired friend as he stammered over his words. “He has something he wants to give to you, Ichigo! Just that he’s apparently too shy to”, she finished, casting a very knowing look at Renji while wiggling her eyebrows, who returned it with a look of horror. “H……hey Rukia! Mind ya own damn business!”

“Tch, be grateful she’s helping ya speak, ya damn oaf”, Ikkaku grumbled as he played with Houzukimaru absentmindedly, while Hitsugaya nodded. “Be thankful, Abarai, that she’s helping you with this one.”

“And why’re all of ya here so early anyway!” Renji all but yelled at the group who, Ichigo finally noticed, had gathered around the two of them. Yumichika sighed, curling a lock of his hair around his fingers. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re here to watch what happens between you and Kurosaki – although that yelling was so ugly and unnecessary”, he said, purposefully ignoring the dirty look the red-headed shinigami was giving him.

“Go for it, Renji!” Matsumoto yelled and not-so-subtly pushed (with her very well-endowed chest, Ichigo noted) the red-headed shinigami towards Ichigo, all eyes on the both of them now. Ichigo cleared his throat. “So…… you’ve got something for me?”

“N……nothing much. Just s……some chocolate……” Renji’s normally boisterous demeanor was unusually subdued, his loud voice small and timid as he shyly pushed the ribbon-wrapped box in his hands towards the younger shinigami with much trepidation.

“F…… for me? Why?” It was now Ichigo’s turn to blush, finding himself at a loss for words. While he normally wasn’t happy about receiving anything from people on Valentine’s Day, it was Renji on the giving end this time, and he looked so scared about the whole thing that Ichigo couldn’t help but worry for the older man.

“Dunno. It was all over that damned manga Rukia reads, and I kinda realised today’s that date……” Renji’s voice grows smaller as the shade of red on his face grows progressively brighter, his fidgeting growing more noticeable as he tried not to look Ichigo in the eyes. “So, uh”, he mutters, tentatively pushing the small box of chocolate in his hands towards the orange-haired teenager. “I……I……l……love you and……H… Happy……Valentine’s?”

It was now Ichigo’s turn to stutter, even as he stared stunned at Renji, the blush on his face blossoming into bright crimson rivaling the older man’s hair, as he grew suddenly aware of the many pairs of eyes now cast upon him. “I…… I…… th……thank you, R……Renji……” His voice grew faint even as he extended one arm out to take the box from the other man’s hands.

Ikkaku wolf-whistled while Yumichika commented, with an arched eyebrow, that for once Renji was doing something pretty almost never to happen again given his usual boorish behaviour. Matsumoto yelled, “Way to go, Renji and Ichigo!”, and Rukia snickered as Hitsugaya stared on impassively, a very faint blush colouring his cheeks. Ichigo sighed as he buried his face in his arms, even while Mizuiro coolly remarked that between the two, he was sure Ichigo was the bottom, leading Keigo to go “AAUUGHHH!” and clutch his head in his arms, the whole class suddenly exploding with everyone discussing Ichigo’s and Renji’s love (or, for a few, sex) life.

Really, Ichigo **hated** Valentine’s Day.

But he supposed he could make an exception for Renji.


End file.
